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samedi 25 avril 2009
You're so happy now burning a candle at both ends. Your self-loving soothes and softens the blows you've invented. Breathe in deep, and cleanse away our sins and we'll pray that there's no God... To punish us and make a fuss. Crack's healing up Future soul forgive this mess. You wait twenty years and wind up alone, demented. Breathe in deep, and cleanse away our sins and we'll pray that there's no God... To punish us and make a fuss.Libellés : Muse
0 El que pierde sentido de la orientación que compre una brújula y se la meta en el orto-